A Wizard's Full Potential
by juliasejanus
Summary: A different life for Tom Riddle. In September 1939, all the children at Wool's Orphanage were evacuated. After third year ends, Tom was evacuated and starts a new life in America, far from Hogwarts, where fortune smiles on him. Lord Slytherin returns to London in 1979, not as a dark lord but as an enlightened upstart in a Britain, where pureblood politics has run rampant.
1. Chapter 1

Martin Lasalle was the Magical Attache at the Embassy of United States of America. It was a quite problematical appointment dealing with a closed and completely archaic society. He had enough foresight to know that The British Ministry of magic did little to nothing to care for any muggle raised children. He and his Canadian colleague were meeting the Hogwarts Express to see if any orphans or muggle-borns had slipped through the evacuation net. All children in the capital and major cities had been evacuated on mass last September. Some of the children arriving home today would have no where to go to as they had fallen through the muggle evacuation system and neither Headmaster Dippet nor Minister Cavanagh cared for muggle problems, as magical families took care of their own.

Olive Hornby and Tom Riddle stood to the side at Kings Cross Station out of the way of families collecting their sons and daughters, nieces, nephews and cousins. Olive sniffed, she had no idea who was collecting her. The dark haired first year lived in Portsmouth. Her father was in the Merchant Navy and her mother had stopped answering her letters. She had spouted forth her entire disgusting muggle background to Tom Riddle, focusing on the boy who made hand me downs into smart clothes through his excellent spellwork. He could pass for upper middle class, not the boy who had grown up Wool's workhouse and orphanage in Bethnal.

The prefects in Slytherin and Hufflepuff had not cared about the two outsiders. Nor did many care of the War between Germany and Britain, nor the fall of France. Grindelwald, as a foreign Dark Lord, hardly concerned then as the present Ministry of Magic policy was isolationist in the extreme, with no aid or help for those fleeing the growing terror.

At 4:35, the concourse by platforms 9 and 10 had cleared. Only the two children remained. The smartly dressed diplomat then approached with Madam Pilkington-Smith, his Canadian counterpart.

"Good Evening, young sir, miss. My name is Mr. Lasalle. This is Madam Pilkington-Smith. We are representatives of the International Confederation of Wizards Red Cross Committee for Orphans and Evacuees. You require lodgings and we will see where to send you. I take it you are both muggle born?"

Tom looked a bit cross, it was typical that the Matron and not informed him that his lodgings had changed. He knew she corresponded with the school occasionally, but he was nearly 14, old enough to apprentice or get a job. Schooling for his sort was a luxury. "I can find employment and lodgings for myself, Mr. Lascalle." Riddle stated stiffly.

"We'll go to the Canadian Embassy for tea, shall we. You both look hungry. There we will see what our option are." The grey haired witch stated firmly. Madam Smith was of a mind that magical children were educated to their full potential and this young wizard was wearing a full set of self transfigured clothes. This boy was talented and if those fools at Hogwarts were happy to leave him to fend for himself they did not derive such a prize pupil.


	2. Chapter 2

Albus Dumbledore took his time to read the in depth article on the new Ambassador for the International Confederation of Wizards, Tom Marvolo Riddle. This mage class diplomat was the Lord of the Ancient and Cunning Houses of Slytherin, Peverell and Gaunt. The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry remembered a cold and calculating workhouse raised waif. A boy who had not returned to the school for his fourth year in September 1940. His absence had passed without any comment from the staff at the time, including Albus himself. The Battle of Britain had ravaged muggle London. Those in muggle unwarded households were at high risk, several muggleborns had perished during the war.

The article stated the fourteen year old orphan had been adopted by the Potion Master and Alchemist Heracles Daimler and that he had graduated Top of his class from the New England College of Magical Achievement in 1944. Daimler was another name from the past, a class mate of Aberforth, another orphan. Obviously he had emigrated and made his fortune abroad.

The old man sat in his office at Hogwarts Castle and stroked his beard, lost in memories for a moment before putting down the paper. The International Edition of the Prophet was getting harder and harder to procure. Albus was lucky as the British Representative of the ICW he had unrestricted mail and access to publications the Ministry restricted. Minister Bartemious Crouch was an extreme isolationist, a man trying to ban muggle born and raised students from the magical world altogether. The reason Riddle was coming to Britain was part of the ICW's campaign to keep relations open and they were playing a very subtle game. None of the pureblood traditionalists could dispute a man of such a fine pedigree. A scholar, a man with years of public service and one as wealthy as the Malfoy's.

It was likely that the Black's would pull their support from Crouch when the Heir of the Founders arrived to take up his seats in the Wizengamot. So, would the other ultra-traditionalists, following the lead of Arcturus and his chosen heir, young Regulus. Only Tom Riddle was a man who had worked as a Liaison for Gringott's on Wall Street, a man at home with muggles and one who would push to change Britain to emulate their role model.

When the then Transfiguration Professor had introduced that boy to the magical world he had seen a bully and a petty thief. The man before him was not the muggle raised boy who had won the respect of Slytherin House nearly forty years ago. Tom Riddle had been the favourite of Horace Slughorn, but had few close friends. None of his contemporaries were allies to the boy with no family to speak of. Now, it was common knowledge he was the last heir of Slytherin through the impoverished Gaunt family and also the Head of House Peverell. He had also sued to inherit his muggle father's estate in 1969. The last member of his mother's family, Morphin had died three years ago naming his sister's only child as heir to the few remaining heirlooms. There were rumours that Mr. Riddle had 'invested heavily' to help Zadok Smith out of a sticky spot last year. The only connection was the fact Smith was also a Founder's heir. The headmaster normally did not give credence to rumours, but Zadok in five years had reduced the once extensive wealth of his old family to mere sickles. His second wife now ran the family business quite successfully. He was Head of Family but with limited influence, still in the Wizengamot and aligned with the hard line pureblood faction.

Dumbledore had little influence in that chamber these days. The old families, even the more liberal ones, like the Potters, the Longbottoms and the Bones did not defer to him. As Chief Warlock he was a mere figurehead.

…..

If anyone at Hogwarts had even suggested that Tom Marvolo Riddle would become and remain friends with a muggleborn Hufflepuff when he had been a pupil in those hallowed halls, he would have cursed them with a borderline dark hex. His life had turned out completely differently than his goal plan at fourteen years old, which had been to make Prefect for Slytherin, become Head Boy and later a government clerk advancing to Minister of Magic. In America, he had worked for Gringott's of all places before accepting the honourable position as an Advisor with the Department of Magical Affairs, the American version of the Ministry. He may yet make Minister of Magic as he had never renounced the land of his birth, even though he abhorred its continued policy of isolationism and segregation. He had been shown a whole new world when he had been evacuated to the United States in 1940. A Land of Promise, Opportunity and true cunning, where magical beings lived and worked in plain sight, never hiding and fully aware of the non-magical world and its fast advancing technology and progress. Easier to integrate than to segregate in such a diverse country and large population, when each magical was outnumbered by over a thousand to one.

The tall dark haired wizard was dressed conservatively in a Ralph Lauren suit, when he exited the boat-train at Waterloo, carrying an overnight bag and briefcase. He had travelled by rail and ferry from Paris as he hated all forms of flying, whether by plane, broom or carpet. He had travelled by Portkey to Switzerland, the only place in Europe to still have open magical routes of transport as International Relations between America and Europe had not reopened after the Fall of Grindelwald.

On the busy concourse, a handsome woman in her fifties waved when she spotted her oldest friend, one she had regularly corresponded with since 1940. Olive Channing, nee Hornby, had married well; a Canadian Wizard in the Foreign Office in Ottawa. She had chosen a genteel life of fundraising and sitting on the Board of Charities to fill her days. She was currently on the Board at St. Mungo's while her husband worked for the Canadian Embassy. She found it hilarious that witches who would not even talk to muggles or muggleborns conversed and accepted her as a tame foreigner, never realising she had attended Hogwarts, if only for one year. A year where she had been teased, bullied and ostracised mercilessly for being muggle born, poor and plain.

"Olive darling, you look wonderful." He had watched that frightened young witch blossom into a formidable woman, one who ably helped her husband achieve his goals. A very traditional marriage of its time, but a loving one. Things were slowly changing, young women now strived for careers of their own. This witch was a one woman analyst and handler. She could arrange anything and had a knack of knowing far more than her demeanour suggested, as she forgot nothing, made connections and dug the dirt when necessary. Most viewed her as a mere wife, but she was the backbone information gathering for the ICW.

"Its so nice to wear normal clothes. I swear robes are made to restrict your movement, its practically torture to endure to wear them. If it wasn't for the blessing of the more avant-garde Parisian designs I would stay in London as a boring housewife who only attended bridge club."

"Come now, I know you secretly love all those lunches and charity board meetings with those society wives. I hear you are close to Lady Malfoy."

"I prefer her sister, Andromeda. Ms. Tonks is a junior partner with Splinter, Brogue and Tellman, the best legal practice in London. We meet regularly over fostering and adoption issues. You should join us for dinner to met her."

"Are you matchmaking, Mrs Channing?"

"No, I know better, darling. Ms. Tonks is happily married. Her husband is a writer, crime novels of all things. Like most muggle borns, he wants nothing to do with the closed minds of British magical society. Andromeda was disowned for daring to want a work. Ted Tonks was her means to an end, otherwise she'd have been married to Genesis Flint, a truly awful man. Tonks is a talented, handsome fellow and quite happy to have a successful working wife. Here I am gossiping, come you must see your new London home, located in Spitalfields. Its a fabulous Georgian terrace. Three house elves, two domestic and one as valet. I have hired you a personal assistant as well. She will live in. I sent you her Curriculum Vitae. Head girl, Gryffindor prefect, top student in her year by far. Her NEWTS grades are truly excellent as you know. She also can transcribe in Pitman shorthand, can touch type and is interested in Computers of all things."

"Yes, Ms. Lily Elanor Evans. I can't wait to meet her."


	3. Chapter 3

For the first nine months after graduation, Lily had worked as a temp in the muggle world, like her mother had in Cokeworth. In London, the jobs were varied and with her skills, her pay was fairly high considering she was only 18. Much higher than any starting position in the magical world for a muggleborn. She was thankful she had been taught typing and shorthand by her mother, along with cooking and dress-making, all skills gained during her school holidays. Lily had held down a full time job in the summers since her fourth year for an estate agents in Halifax, a bus ride from home.

As the top student at school she may have dreamt of an apprenticeship or internship, but as a muggleborn she knew opportunities were slim, despite the reassurances of her friend Alice Longbottom or her teachers Horace Slughorn, Filius Flitwick or Minerva McGonagall. In truth, most muggle born and muggle raised half bloods were expected to enter trades, even an apprenticeship was a long shot in the narrow, bigoted and a very closed shop where family connections were everything. In the underground network of connections between the outcasts of magical society, Lily had met Ted Tonks and his wife, Andromeda. Through them her CV had passed through the channels where blood meant nothing and skills meant everything.

She knew her new appointment was not just as a PA or secretary but as a recruit for the network of operatives working to prevent the rise of another Grindelwald and to keep a check on the blood supremacists lead by the Black, Lestrange and Malfoy families.

The tall willowy titian haired young witch had settled on a dark suit and white blouse, play and functional matched with dark tights and court shoes. She put her long hair into a bun and opted for powder and a neutral lipstick, rather than full make-up. She wanted to give the impression of efficient, she could dress if the occasion needed it. This was her first day and first impressions counted. She was not just a pretty young thing, not with an IQ of 146.

The house was a play three storey Georgian terrace in the city. It had dirty windows and the exterior looked careworn, but as she had found out at eleven appearances, where magic was concerned were deceiving. The heavy oak door opened as soon as she knocked. She was shocked to see the hall was lit by electric light. She noted the runic array protecting the 1950's fuse box. Such mixing of magical safeguards on muggle technology was entirely foreign in Europe. This American raised halfblooded Lord of the Houses Slytherin, Gaunt and Peverell was unlike any wizard she had met. She suddenly felt giddy with excitement about her new job.

…

The Leaky Cauldron was very crowded. It was Friday night and most had finished work and were either eating or having a few drinks before heading home. James Potter was nursing a butterbeer as he looked at his watch again. Lily, the most punctual girl in the world, was forty minutes late. The dark haired wizard was still dressed in his work robes, of an apprenticed Auror. He had been in a rush, sure his girlfriend would have already been sat waiting for him. He was hungry, but waited as he remembered it had been a hard fought battle to get Miss Evans to even date him and he now started worrying that his love spent so much time in the muggle word she might want to forget about him altogether. It wasn't his fault she couldn't get a decent job or apprenticeship. The stupid rules at Hogwarts stated the teachers could not take apprentices and he knew at least four of the teachers had tried really hard to get Lily a mastership in either Arithmancy, Runes, Potions or Charms. James Potter would sing her praises to all except he was just a trainee, he was due to pass in January to be a Junior level Auror. He hated the fact they could not date openly, Charles Potter was a patient man but he had feet in two camps, to follow family and tradition or to follow his heart. Time was running out at Christmas his father was hosting a ball, it was the start of the formal courting season. His father wanted his son married and the current political climate meant he had to marry a wizarding raised witch. As heir of Potter and Peverell houses, he was a sort after groom of impeccable lineage and comfortable wealth and influential political position. The tall dark haired aurora trainee shuddered at the thought of marrying any of his second, third or fourth cousins. New blood was needed and he hoped his father would settle on a foreign bride since the 'Bloodline Preservation Act' meant he could not marry his love, his beautiful Lily. The witch would most likely be a good companion and mother, but the witch who he was hand-fasted to, who was his hearts-desire, though society would call her a harlot, a mistress or a concubine. She was brilliant and fearless, a true lioness. He dreaded his impending engagement. It was a technicality to Lily Evans, the fact they could not legally bond, she stated that 'living in sin' was acceptable and normal for muggle. If only life was so carefree and without obligations and duty for the Potter heir. He was an only child, the son of an only child. No well raised witch would have lost her maidenhood before marriage. The passing of that god forbidden legislation banning muggle or muggle-borns marrying above their station had been the day they had started their doomed love affair. No wife, however meek, would stand to be cuckholded or the chance that the other woman would be blessed with magical children.

He ordered a shot of fire whiskey. He would talk to Lily tonight, break it gently to her that the future was one of stolen moments, but the truth was his father would not understand his choice of love and desire over the stability of magical Britain. He was a Lord and had to marry within his station. She could offer no dowry, no family heirlooms, no grimoire and no pedigree. The elders of the Wizangamot had decreed that the weakening of bloodlines had to stop, the rumour was a 'Suitable Marriage Act' was scheduled for the next session with the Ministry acting as matchmaker. He would be forced to marry one of his prim and proper cousins for sure. His father arranging his marriage at Yule was the lesser of the possible evil. His father had already had half the dowagers in France, Ireland and Britain arranging his 'match". He would give anything to live a simple life with his darling flower.

The cloaked figure who flooed into the dingy bar was dressed in high quality robes, haute couture from Paris. Her hair dressed in a simple but elegant chinon. The titian haired, lithe and tall form of Lily Elanor Evans, on first glance could pass for 'pureblood', but in the small and narrow minded magical community everyone knew exactly who she was, an upstart mudblood with ideas above her station. She walked into the Leaky Cauldron and paused until James made eye contact. She walked upstairs to Room 8. Tom had already laid out supper and dressed the room with two bouquets. In eight minutes, her lover would join her. They could not even talk in public. Their love reduced to stolen moments and whispered conversations over communication mirrors when truly alone. Lily knew she was playing with fire and that she would get burnt, but it was thrilling and dangerous and she believed, in her heart of hearts that love would conquer all.


	4. Chapter 4

A pair of pale slim hands were busy filing. Her office was a small anteroom of her employers larger and very sumptuous study, which connected to the large library, full of books banned by Ministry as dark, subversive or seditious. Even owning 'muggle' books was frowned upon by the present administration. Lily herself could be imprisoned for having O'Levels and A'Levels. She, after her first year at Hogwarts, had decided to hedge her bets as she did not want a life of a servant or manual labourer. Her straight O's in her magical qualifications, had served to close doors, not open them, since no shop owner wanted staff visibly more intelligent than themselves. Of all the taunts and curses she had suffered at school, Lily could not forgive her former best friend Severus for lying to her, convincing her that the magical world was wonderful. That her non-magical parents were of no consequence. Magic was the only thing that mattered. It had broken her heart when even, he had called her mudblood. Now all would call her a whore; as soon there would be no disguising her predicament as an unmarried mother. Life was growing in her belly, a son. She had not told her ex, but James was contracted to marry Maribelle Sante-Bellevoix. They last met at Halloween and made their goodbyes. The pregnancy was not planned, Lily had brewed and ingested a contraceptive potion since sixth year. No this was a child borne of love, when Lily could only legally consort with her own kind.

The auburn haired witch continued to manually organise the day's diary, then sort through all outstanding matters. She tried to keep busy, arriving early and working into the evening for the past two months to keep her mind off her broken heart. She was not angry with James, just calm and resigned. He was a pureblood heir after all and an only child. She had slept with him because she had known true love, even if it had been fleeting and deliciously forbidden. She would always have those perfect twenty-seven months, when it had been James and Lily and nothing else had mattered. Her hand swept over her cheek to roughly brush off the stray tears. She would not, could not break down. She would become indispensable as the perfect PA to Thomas, as Lord Slytherin insisted she call him here in his home. If she was irreplaceable, she would be invited to work for him in America. Her dream was to escape narrow minded, bigoted and flawed Britain. The clock in the hall then chimed 9, and Lily got her shorthand pad and took the general post through to her boss. He would be ready to dictate replies to the routine correspondence from various organisations, companies and individuals eager to be in the good graces of the Lord of Slytherin, the ICW representative and rising star of the Wizengamot.

She was surprised to see an early morning visitor as she had heard no murmur conversation, under the tell tale presence of any privacy wards, nor noted the arrival of the silver haired wizard, who was dressed in fine robes of deepest purple. Lord Slytherin's guest was in mourning and must have arrived by his warded floor, directly into the office

Tom Marvolo Riddle-Gaunt smiled at the punctual arrival of his very able personal secretary. "Good morning Miss Evans, I would like to introduce my cousin, Lord Charles Potter."

She quickly put her pad, pen and outstanding letters on the console and dropped into a deep courtesy. "My Lords, my humble apologies for disturbing you."

"Please sit for tea. We have much to discuss concerning family matters. Matters that we require your council and agreement on."

She stood up to see the piercing caramel toned eyes of Charlus Potter weighing her up. As the man was both her senior in standing and years, he had not greeted 'the staff'. A man of good manners would never lower themselves to be familiar with the lower orders. He did however offer the slightest of nods. It was more of a greeting than she expected. She was worried what family matters needed a witness present, as no court in Britain would count her testimony as valid.

Tom motioned for the witch to sit, and with a casual wave he wandlessly poured tea for her, just the way she liked it. "As you know, on my seventeenth birthday magic granted me Lordship for my maternal line. My mother was the last Gaunt Heiress, but more importantly, as a mage I met the criteria to claim the older family titles, after many generations of exclusion. As you know, the Potter family had held the Peverell vault in trust for four centuries until a worthy heir was declared. So, Charlus and I are old friends. I had hoped to name James as my heir. Alas that is unlikely to happen considering his ill considered choice of bride."

All colour drained from Lily's face. The porcelain cup shook in her hands. Her dalliance with James Potter would see her imprisoned for sure. She was a Gryffindor and calmed herself to face her fate.

Her employer continued, "It seems James has fallen foul of the twin evils of compliance and acceptance."

For the first time the older wizard spoke. "I, like his late wife wanted James to defy the present laws and misguided decorum to marry his soul mate and to follow his heart, all others be damned. My darling Dorea followed her heart many years ago and defied her father to marry the second son of House Potter and not my elder brother, whom she was contracted to. The thing is magic and love go hand in hand. My darling brother Giraldus was an absolute rogue. I loved him and mourned him when he died before time. There was no quarrel between us as he had no wish to marry any woman. Family magic and conditions of that contract meant James was not conceived until after my brother died. I was willing to defy my family obligations to marry for love. I was persona non grata in society for years, but all and sundry forgot my misdemeanour when I became Lord and by chance fulfilled the criteria of a blasted contract by fault rather than design. I fear my son thinks marrying some witch who meets the Ministry's ridiculous criteria will preserve our family's good name and continued good fortune." With a long drink of tea, Charlus relaxed. On putting his cup down he turned the cup on its side and then stared at his tea leaves. "James has thrown true love away with a stupid excuse of a lawful union. That child growing in your belly is the future Lord of three houses. There are no approved matches where magic is concerned, only love and compatibility and love is stronger than the foundations of the Earth. I'm afraid that your pregnancy was never secret as Ancient, Honourable and Noble Houses have magically updating family trees."

Tom poured another cup of darjeeling and filled in his secretary on her choices. "So, Lily. You may think you are independent and free of 'family concerns' but there is the rather pressing problem that I am childless and will remain so. No child will be born from my loins. Sterililty is an unfortunate side affect of children conceived when their fathers are dosed with illegal love potions. So, we have a problem as James will be cursed for denying love, his marriage will be childless and he signed a marriage contract without consulting his father, Gringotts or myself on the compatibility of that union."

Lily took a sip of drink and wondered how this unfortunate situation would resolve itself "I am muggle born. I cannot legally bear an heir."

Tom Marvolo Riddle smiled. "Not here in Britain, but I am unfortunately going to be called back to America with urgent family business. You of course shall accompany me, if you so wish. You have a choice, in fact several choices. I or Charles can blood adopt your child, and he will be a legal heir. Only children of comparable family magic can be adopted in that way and no it is not illegal in America. Then you remain free to work, marry and live in America as I will secure you citizenship. Secondly, we could marry and I raise your child as my own. You will be my consort in all things, but this would be your only child. Thirdly you could take your chances here and run the chance of imprisonment and your child be treated as a muggleborn, with no legal rights to Potter, Peverell or Slytherin titles."


	5. Chapter 5

Lily Evelyn Evans was on the cusp of her dreams coming true. She was escaping Britain and continuing her education to Mastery level. She could see all the advantages of marrying her boss and raising her love child without the stigma of him being illegitimate or the certainty of going to prison herself for attempted line theft. All helped by the fact Charles Potter was happy to protect his grandson and Heir of the Peverell Line. She had made up her mind to marry Tom, but still it was not the future she really wanted or desired, but she was going to put on a brave face. It was not love but pragmatism. Only fools threw everything away for love. James had already shown her that reality check. She had thought him idealist and really could not understand his decision to be a proper wizard. Her assumption had been that his father had been pushing for a good marriage, but that had proved to be a lie. James had ended their affair for his own reasons. He was a good man, one who was eager to do the right thing. His abrupt acceptance of pureblood law smacked of manipulation, something that was easily done and accepted in the magical world for the greater good. Most did everything the Ministry decreed without an independent thought or any rationality. There was no real opposition to the Ministry of Magic, even in the Wizengamot and most Wizards and Witches were sheep in her opinion. Tom had a similar view after six months in Britain. His circle of friends included families considered dark, grey and light. Those willing to see the bigger picture understood that the restrictive laws would harm rather than strengthen their interests, but they were in the minority. These families were now sending their heirs abroad to finish their education after Hogwarts, outside of Europe. It was a subtle change in attitude but those that could were leaving. It had already happened to those muggle born or raised. After graduation, they returned to muggle school and left the Magical enclaves to the Pureblood bigots.

Lily had written to her sister as she could not bring herself to see Petunia. Her sister was now a respectable housewife, who did not want her husband to know about the freak in the family. Lily had not been invited to Tuney's wedding nor the engagement party. Revenge was a going to be sweet when the invitation went out next week for her own wedding to Lord Gaunt-Riddle, who was Baron Peverell and Greve of Slytherin. She would be an ennobled Lady, that would stick in Petunia's throat, not helped by the fact Tom was very rich and a quite famous businessman even in non-magical circles. Her hand rested on her stomach. She could feel the change in her body already. This child would be loved, he would know the truth of his parentage but Tom would be his father in the true sense of the word. James had turned his back on both his love and his father. James had no real interest in family history and was ignorant of the fact the Peverell title was held by his cousin now. He was just Heir to the Potter line, a cadet family with no titles or real influence. Charlus Potter and his forefathers had been regents only.

…..

James Potter was meant to be having his final fitting for his dress robes, as his wedding was in four days time. A groom having cold feet was expected, but he had terminal frost bite. He was sat in the bar at the Hog's Head drinking fire whiskey, when he should be in Place Tabazan, with his appointed chaperone. He hated everything about the wedding arrangements, especially the stuffy establishment where his in-laws had their clothes tailored. He thought back to last December the joint ball thrown for himself and his best friend Sirius to find suitable brides. The event organised by his old teacher and mentor, Albus Dumbledore. There the old man had introduced him to the Swiss heiress and within an hour he had somehow asked for her hand. She was petite with pale almost sickly-looking skin, dark hair, which was a bit on the thin side and large brown eyes. A woman nothing like beautiful tall, willowy, titian haired Lily Evans. Rather than continue drinking he decided to see his ex-lover. Maybe their forbidden relationship could continue, all he had to do was get his wife pregnant to satisfy the contract. He was sure Lily would agree. His life had been empty, monotonous and dull since they had parted company.

It was all politics, Albus had droned on and on that the Peverell line had to return to James, as Riddle was a confirmed batchelor and for that to happen James needed a 'good match' and an heir. Riddle was too dark and the man disliked Dumbledore for some reason.

Life had taken a real downturn since January. Sirius had been lucky and escaped that ball without making any commitments. He had tried to keep in contact with his best friend but Sirius had been sent abroad by his Grandfather, to apprentice to some shaman in Arizona. The restrictions on international communications meant the two best friends had to rely on letters, which had put a dampener on their close bond. What did you talk about when your life was the boring mix of work and wedding planning.

He flooed to London and exited onto Charing Cross Road and went to the nearest Apparition Point. In a crack he appeared to East London. Only Lily's flat in Bermonsey was now home to foreigners who spoke no english. He had no idea where she worked now as her ex-boss Riddle had gone back to America for some family commitments.

In desperation, James thought about returning home to ask his father, but his father had been quite cold since the engagement party had introduce Mirabelle to Charlus. His father had been quite upset about the fact James had not courted properly before signing the contract, some strange ramblings on compatibility and suitability. The witch was a pureblood, that was all that mattered, that the fact Albus said she was the best available amongst of the sorry bunch of old maids who had turned up at that ball. Who needed months of stilted conversations supervised by some old hag acting as a chaperone. His wife would be happy keeping house, raising the heir and a spare and hosting the occasional party or ball. That had kept his mother happy after all.

The now very sober wizard arrived two hours late for his fitting. It progressed in silence. James noted his chaperone had a determined look in his eye. Monsieur DeVere would not lose his charge again. James would be married tomorrow no mistake. The family Sante-Bellevoix were banking on control of all of the Potter, Peverell and Riddle money and titles, through their heiress. Dumbledore had assured them that Riddle was infertile and not interested in marrying. Mirabelle would be a proper wife and matriarch to the weak and foolish Potter heir and insist her sons were brought up by her family, the British were too lax and liberal for her liking.

….

Plans within plans, chess pieces were moving and in place for the greater good. Magic was might and Albus Dumbledore was quite happy with the status quo in Britain. He was not overtly worried about the disappearance of several of his pawns. Sirius Black was unlikely to be named Head of House, as his brother Regulus was being groomed for that position. The current fad for second born sons to be educated abroad was just a passing fashion. Lily Evan's loss was another strange occurrence. She was meant to be his poster child of a hard working muggle born but she had obviously gone back to working as a secretary in muggle London. She was too strong willed and opinionated, which had almost lost him the control of the Potter Heir. The witch was not a suitable wife for any pureblood and as a mistress she would have had too much influence on James. He had not expected her to accept exile in the nonmagical world but muggleborns were wilful, passionate and mercurial. He had hoped to get her to accept a marriage to her old friend Severus. As a muggle raised half blood that was a much more suitable match, and any children would have be magically raised way from any muggle taint. He would have to work harder to keep the Snape boy in line without Evans as an obvious carrot. The heart broken witch should have been a perfect rebound for the talented Slytherin Potion's master. Everything was much easier now Riddle was no longer in the Wizengamot questioning everything.


	6. Chapter 6

Charlus Potter was old before his time. He regretted spoiling his son so much and neglecting his wife in the process, as James and his happiness had been both their main focus. The loss of Dorea had been akin to having his heart and soul cut out. He had done his duty and secured his line of succession, his grandson would be the Heir of Potter, Peverell and also Slytherin. The family future was secure and richer than ever. His son and his complete obedience not to family but that manipulative headmaster had seen James all but disowned. He would never have to work as his trust fund was extremely generous, but his son would not be Head of House Potter and the ploy to secure the Peverell titles and responsibilities under Dumbledore's thumb had failed. Charles was well aware of the hidden symbol that the family invisibility cloak represented. Tom had inherited the cursed Peverell ring and was now aware never to use it as necromancy corrupted those even with the purest of intensions. At least the accursed death stick had passed from their families responsibility, as it had no allegiance and was seeking to return to its true master.

He had closed the manor, the elves would manage the estates until his heir came of age. Without access to the family tapestry James would remain ignorant of his son's existence. The small apartment in London was enough for his needs and he would spent his twilight years knee deep in the mire of politics as Lord Riddle had passed control of his seats in the Wizangamot onto him, to vote as his chosen proxy. Too long had he been complacent. Change needed to come and he would stand his ground to as a proper conservative, not a pureblood but one who understood the power and flow of magic. The Old Ways were being ignored and defied in the name of a greater good or progress. That had to stop. His own son had no understanding of the true path and had chosen to be a follower of the self proclaimed Lord of Light Magic. That old man had striven to appear light and liberal but was still a follower of the ideals of Grindelwald. Too few remembered the close connection of those two wizards

…..

She wasn't nervous, a strange calm was her present mood. No pre-wedding nerves, she was a true Evans, stubborn and forthright and she had made up her mind. Her bonding was tomorrow morning. It was also Thomas' birthday. He was fifty-three, in his prime on her opinion. Tomorrow she would officially be Lady Slytherin-Gaunt-Peverell. Not that the title meant anything in America, she was simply Mrs. Riddle. Here she had still to make her own way. She had already signed up for Mastership Studies in Potions, Charms and Arithmancy. Her notes, experiments and postulations could now be productive not just scrawls in her notebook. Lily Evans would be allowed a career and her soon to be husband was thrilled with her determination and ambition. Not a trophy wife but a partner and a confidante. He had promised to support her in all her endeavours and she would support him in return. She had also promised herself it was not going to be a sham marriage. They would be intimate, she was going to seduced Mr. Riddle and make him want her and never regret this marriage of necessity. He had saved her from a life as a second class citizen. As an unmarried mother she was certain Lord Potter would have taken care of her and his illegitimate grandson but this way House Potter was still tied to House Peverell with a legitimate blood heir. She looked at the portrait Tom had given her for Yule. It was a startling likeness of her husband, painted by a muggle artist. She herself had sat for a young artist in return. The resulting interpretation had likened her image to the Goddess of Love. It was erotic and the perfect way to entice her man and give him the clear signal this marriage was for real. She would honour all the bonding vows, as in the muggle ceremony "with my body I thee worship." Love would come she was certain. They both had similar backgrounds and were both so ambitious. The only guest she had invited tomorrow had been Professor Slughorn, as the man had been the only professor to champion her and had urged her to move abroad and marry a foreigner. She had wanted her Jamie, but he was engaged to another, unwilling to risk his position in society by marrying a mudblood. In the end he had been no different than her former best friend, Severus. Both men had supposedly loved her, yet here she was marrying a man old enough to be her father.

Her belly had the slightest of curves to it, not unexpected as though still in her first trimester and she was naturally willowy. Magical pregnancies were different from muggle ones. Magic was a rare gift and witches were commonly not as fertile as their muggle counterparts. A child was seen as a blessing of a magically comparable pairing. Her son conceived on Halloween was a boon as it was seen as connected to ancestors, some even though children born on this day were reincarnations of the great and good or those with a destiny.

Long graceful fingers touched her belly. It was far too early for any movement but she could feel the magic of this developing child. Her own magic was slightly enhanced, for this to manifest so early in gestation was proof this child was powerful.

She then flicked to the rear page in her notebook, where a short list of names were written down. Henry, her father's name but everyone had called him Harry, was her favourite. Other similar names were listed, including Harrison, Hywel, Hadrian and Harlan. The middle name was already decided, Charlus, not Thomas but she may add Marvolo or Salazar. She had months to research Thomas' family history for other strong names. She had also written down Paraselsus. Was the famous alchemist and healer a muggleborn Parselmouth? She then doodled the medical symbol from ancient times, a dagger and two snakes on the edge of the page before going back to fixing her hair for the small supper for a few friends. Only twelve guests to entertain, feed and water. So far she had proved to be a witty, charming and expertly and effortlessly efficient hostess. None in New York doubted Thomas Marvolo Riddle had made a fine match and found a true soul mate.

….

The small framed drawing was placed on Tom Marvel Riddle's bureau. His fiancee had sent him a wedding present. A chalk sketch of Miss Evans, in a very tasteful erotic pose. The imagery reminiscent of Botticelli. Red hair, luminous green irises and porcelain pale skin. This was a message. This is yours. He was a man who had taken very few lovers. He had been lucky to share his few trysts with women he had admired, respected or envied. He had never thought of taking a wife until approached by Charles Potter and had only done so to sway Potter and his allies away from Dumbledore's influence. Now, he was to be bonded and he understood the ramblings of that man as he had spoken of his own bonding to Dorea Black. Comparable magic would ensure sexual compatibility and a great partnership. It seemed Miss Evans understood this deep magic. He felt a spike of lust looking at this picture. He had expected cold distain or polite celibacy from his bride, but he had underestimated her. Marriage was marriage, historically a contract or union to cement alliances, family bonds or business deals. Love came after. The notion romantic love was separate from the legal necessities of life. Lily Eleanor Evans was determined to be a married woman, a wife in every sense of her duty: companion, hostess, supporter and lover.


	7. Chapter 7

For the society columns on both sides of the Atlantic, the news of Lord Peverell's nuptials had been a shock of the year, when news broke that the fifty-three year old wizard had married his pregnant assistant. Most who knew the man were soon aware of what a good match the former Ms. Evans was to the aloof and abrasive Lord, a man over thirty years her senior. The couple entertained regularly and the young woman was vivacious, stunning, talented and incredibly intelligent, a good foil for her husband's sarcastic wit.

Entertaining his oldest friends at the Manhattan Warlock's Club on Central Park West on his return from London, Tom spoke of the match making of his good friend Madam Channing.

"I arranged with Olive to find me a suitable assistant, expecting her to employ a confirmed bachelor, like myself; over fifty, workaholic and very no-nonsense. To find the woman had hired a young recent graduate of Hogwarts of the opposite sex. The young lady had six NEWTS, all Outstandings with distinctions, was top of her year, Head Girl and yet could not get an apprenticeship or even a job within Magical community in Britain. I was more than willing to employ Miss Evans, who had fantastic references from Professor Slughorn and three employers in the City."

The man smiled as he sipped his armagnac. "By Halloween, I knew my days as a single man were numbered. I thought I was well past the age for siring a child and here, I will be a father by August. Miss Evans also proved to be a reluctant bride, the brainwashing of the blood purist faction at her school made her think she was only good enough to be a concubine at best. She expected me to sack her after our tryst. I fear her previous love affair at school had not ended well, the man dropped her as he was contracted to a stranger. I doubt the witch he married is half the woman Lily is. To think I am now acting the love struck teenager because my titian haired wife." It was the truth, he had never been enamoured with carnal pleasures but he was addicted to the touch and attention of his wife. He wondered if Lord Potter had arranged the match not to legitimise his heir but to matchmake a more than suitable wife for his distant cousin and leige lord.

…..

On the evening of his 55th birthday, he was dressed and ready for the Ministry Ball, happy to watch his lovely wife prepare. He watched her dress after her bath. The woman well aware her nude form aroused him. Tonight there was no time to interrupt Lily as her pale skin was covered by the softest of water silk robes, plain but expertly cut to her willowy figure. Her red hair dressed in an elaborate braid, with clasps of gold and clips adorned with emeralds and diamonds. On her wrist the entwined snakes of the Ancient Slytherin Bonding bracket and around her throat the family locket. Returned to him after he became the financial saviour of the Smith Family. He had widely publicised that his bride was a descendant of the Druid-mages of Snowdonia. A Druid warrior priestess was the perfect image for Lily Evans. How she had laughed that the mud blood daughter of Harry Evans was now thought of as mythic royalty.

The 1981 New Year Ministry Ball was the social event of the winter season, this year hosted by Lucius Malfoy and the ballroom in the Ministry of Magic deep below London was resplendent with tasteful decorations. The guest list included Lord and Lady Potter and Lord and Lady Slytherin-Peverell. With the death of Charlus Potter at Halloween, the money, prestige and holdings of the Peverell Regency passed to Tom Marvolo Riddle and his heir.

Watching his wife of a year dance with other Lords, was excruciating, his possessiveness and jealousy evident in his penetrating observation of the dancers every move. His wife was charming all, the great and good hanging on her every word. The witches coy and demure mask in place, the lady despised them all. Every witch and wizard here would have ignored her before her marriage.

The dowager Longbottom approached to make small talk. "You have travelled home without your son."

"Hadrian is quite precocious. His accidental magic is prestigious if upset, easier on all of us leaving him with his nanny, his playgroup routine and with my good friend Madam Zelda Goodman playing grandmama. The loss of Charlus has hit us all hard, he was like a father to me, as you know both Lily and I are orphans."

The matriarch still controlled the family holdings as her son had chosen to be an Auror, she missed her old friends Charlus and Dorea deeply. "You never warmed to young James. The boy thinks himself above his elders. Married that heiress without consulting his father, shocking behaviour. Marrying for money, it's not like the potter's are poor. Their farms make enough I keep the man in the standard his father was accustomed to. The Potter's have never flaunted the Peverell wealth for good reason they were regents not lords. As you can surmise My hobby is genealogy. You finding a magical descendant of Cadwaladr has been a welcome renewing of an ancient bloodline long thought lost."

"Squib descentants are discounted from all Ancient and Noble Lines, I would not be surprised if all Muggle-borns were actually all related. Squibs can still see and sense magic, some can even brew potions, divine and study arithmancy, runes and astronomy to Mastery level and most can excel at herbology or care of magical creatures. To exile thirty percent of our small community just because they cannot match a wand to transfigure, hex or cast charms, is such a waste of potential. Look at Marius Black, cast from the family at eleven, yet a confirmed true seer, honoured at the Temple of Hecate in Delphi. We cast them out and create our own problems with reintegrating their descendants. Muggle borns go back to the world they were raised in, leaving the Pureblood lines to intermarry and weaken." Tom let out a slow breath, his mother had been little more than a squib. The Riddles, by pure luck had been cursed to show no magic, until they married into Morgana's bloodline. Genealogies only went back as far as the founding of Hogwarts, so either the Peverell's or the Gaunt's were the last heirs of the greatest witch of the Dark Ages. "Forgive my outburst, but my own 'muggle' father was a squib of an ancient, long forgotten family. From him I inherited a library of scrolls in ancient tongues predating Hogwarts and my Slytherin forefathers."

….

Lily had worked hard at her marriage, become the seductress, the diplomat and the perfect housekeeper. Not for one minute did she regret her decisions. Tom was a wonderful father and a husband many were jealous of. He often scoffed that James Potter was the biggest fool in the world for letting her go. Now, she was his and how he treasured and spoiled her. She had been afraid that her son would be only tolerated as a heir and nothing more, but her husband doted in his adopted son. She was glad the boy favoured her and his Peverell heritage, she wondered if the differences were due to Tom blood adopting the child. James had looked so like his father, but Hadrian, while with a slight resemblance to his Potter grandfather was very like Tom.

This night, no one had called her a mudblood, all had been polite, even the Malfoy's. Narcissa discussing her son, only slightly older than Hadrian, like the pair would become best of friends at Hogwarts in ten years time. Lily was damn sure she taught her son the truth that Hogwart's produced back stabbing, nasty and cruel bigots. Even James had fallen into that category in the end. Tom saved from that fate by finishing his schooling in America.

As she sipped the glass of fruit punch with her husband she glanced at but did not remain in eye contact with her one time best friend, Severus Snape. She would never forgive him his casual termination of their childhood bond in fifth year. Oh, she would be polite to his face, but by then end of tonight all she spoke with would be well aware he was the son of a penniless muggle, who had died in jail after murdering his wife of twenty years, a Pureblood Witch, in a drunken rage. Snape had spent his years at Hogwarts pretending to be a impoverished halfblooded heir of House Prince, upholding Pureblood ideals and down playing his past, making most think his mother had raised him as a single parent, Tobias Snape handily forgotten. The vaults and assets, his grandfather had bequeathed to St. Mungo's rather than give a knut to the son of his daughter's murderer.


End file.
